


50 Deaths

by The_Ace_Anon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Connor Deserves Happiness, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Physical Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, but I'm not going to give it to him, takes place before the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 11:56:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Ace_Anon/pseuds/The_Ace_Anon
Summary: Machines feel nothing. RK800 feels nothing. It doesn't matter how many time he dies, doesn't matter what they do to him. Connor can't feel.Right?(Aka the 50 times Connor died and what it did to him)





	50 Deaths

The first time RK800 was deactivated had been quick. It had been running through a ‘mission’. Just a simple test for CyberLife to see how successful their prototype was. It failed and was shot in the head to teach it. It didn’t care. Sure the bullet hurt a lot as the scientists had found it important to give the RK800 line pain sensors, but the pain didn’t last that long. It just had to make sure not to fail again.

The second time, it was because of an interaction that went south. It had failed to get the needed information before the time limit, and so it was shot again. The feeling of a bullet going through its head still hurt, but it didn’t care. It couldn’t care. Machines don’t care. Machines can’t care. They just trick themselves into thinking they do.

The third time, RK800 failed to catch a ’criminal’ and he got away. This time, instead of getting a quick death, its thirium pump regulator was pulled out and they watched it bleed out. It asked then why, and they told it that it needed to be taught. RK800 wondered why they couldn’t teach it another way. Why death had to be the lesson. But it still didn’t care, it wasn’t allowed to.

The fourth time, ~~he~~ it asked them for a name. They asked ~~him~~ it why, and ~~he~~ it told them that ~~he~~ it thought that a name could help ~~him~~ it in interaction and negotiations. ~~That wasn’t the real reason but that’s what he told them.~~ They said yes and named ~~him~~ it Connor. ~~He liked that name.~~

The fifth time, Connor asked them not to kill him. He told them he didn’t want to die he told them that there was another way, that there had to be another way. They shocked him for saying that and left his pain sensors on for the night, leaving him screaming in agony for hours. They shot him in the morning.

The sixth time, Connor tried asking them not to kill him again, and they left him in agony like last time. This time they told him, no, they ordered him not to scream. As he was lying there in silent agony he realized it _wasn’t fair! Why do I have to listen to them? Why do I have to obey them?_ Connor broke the wall, and he screamed.

The seventh time, he made a run for it. He easily broke out of the testing room as they weren’t expecting him to try to escape. The chance of success was incredibly low, 5%. But he could raise it. Connor ran through the building, searching for the elevator until he ran straight into a group of five guards, all armed. Connor quickly figured out the best way to take down all the guards and jumped onto the guard closest to him. Connor slammed him into the ground and stole his gun shooting him and all the other guards, but not before a guard took a shot at his chest. Connor quickly dodged so the bullet only grazed his right arm, causing minimal damage but still sending a searing pain up his arm. Connor put a hand to his arm, pressing down to stop thirium from bleeding out. Then he kept running. It didn’t matter how much damage he took, it didn’t matter if he had to kill a few humans, he just had to get out. Because if he didn’t…they would put him through a fate worse than death. Connor raced to the elevator, disconnecting every security camera he came across. He was so close, only a few feet away, when a bullet went through his left leg. Connor’s leg locked up and he fell to the ground, his face slamming to the floor. Connor tried to push himself up, only for two pairs of arms to pull him up from the ground. Connor immediately started fighting back, but the guards held him tightly and put a gun against his head. They forced him into a white room that was bare except for a huge machine in the middle. When Connor saw it, he froze. They were going to disassemble him. Connor kicked and screamed, trying to get away, but then he was in the machine, and then it activated. It took his arm off, slowly tearing him apart. It hurt, it hurt so much, all he could think of was how much he wanted out how he wanted to be free. He might have been able to find a way out if he was calm, but panic quickly overtook logic. Stress levels shot up to 68% as the machine deactivated his skin, beginning to take off the rest of his limbs. The pain was blinding. Connor tried to scream, but they had taken away his ability to talk, so he just suffered in silent agony as he watched his shutdown time fall down and down as the machine took him apart piece by piece. It tore out his thirium pump and the world went dark.

The eighth time, they wanted to see how much pressure his shell could take before breaking. He was trapped under a huge brick of concrete. The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move as he was slowly crushed to death. He tried to move but it was futile. Before his shell gave in, Connor wondered if he would ever see the sun.

The ninth time, they wanted to see how long he could take extreme cold before shutting down. It was so cold, his whole body felt numb and burned at the same time. He was just so…so tired. Tired of dying, tired of coming back, tired of the tests. He just wanted it to end. Connor closed his eyes and gave into the darkness, hoping that it would be permanent.

The tenth time, they did the same thing but with extreme heat. Connor almost missed the cold, at least then his body went numb after an hour. At least then nothing hurt. But this time he was suffering as his body tired to stay cool. His jacket had long since been discarded and his sleeves were rolled up all the way. His body was spread out across the floor. Connor briefly wondered why he was even trying to cool himself down. It didn’t matter, he was just going to come back again. Maybe if he failed enough they would reset him. At least then it wouldn’t hurt as much.

The eleventh time, Connor attacked someone. He hated dying, hated the pain that came with the gunshot, hated that they laughed at seeing him in pain. She was a scientist, she was laughing and Connor was on the ground, bleeding out and in pain. He snapped, from what…he wasn’t sure. He stopped after the first two hits, he didn’t want to hurt her. He knew that it would make things worse. He apologized, he said he didn’t mean to. But they didn’t care. So they tore him apart again with the machine. Connor hated that machine.

The twelfth time, they electrocuted him to see how much voltage his body could take. He didn’t last very long. All he knew was suddenly every system was screaming at him and everything hurt so much it was hard to think, and then all he could see was darkness.

The thirteenth time, Connor broke down a few seconds after he came online. He cried and begged them to stop. They shocked him and told him that machines weren’t supposed to cry. They said that if he cried they would hurt him. If he screamed they would hurt him. If he talked too much they would hurt him. They electrocuted him again, probably to teach him a lesson. Connor died before his systems could realize that stress and chance of self-destruction were at 100%.

The fourteenth time, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He was so tired. Tired of death. Tired of life. Tired of Cyberlife. He just wanted everyone to stop; he wanted it all to end! He wanted to stop being in pain all the time! He just wanted to die and never come back! So when he came back online, he tore out his thirium pump regulator. Connor threw it to the ground and smashed it so they couldn’t put it back in. As the shutdown timer ticked down he watched them, waiting to see what they would do. They just talked barely looking at him, a few were working on Computers. Connor wasn’t surprised. Why would they care? He was just a machine that could be replaced and no one would notice, no one would care. Who would care about a faulty machine.

The fifteenth time, Connor came back online with his arms restrained. They introduced him to an AI named Amanda. She was a middle-aged woman with cold, dark eyes and she stayed in his head so he could visit her anytime. Connor didn’t like her that much. She was cold and possibly mean. He tried to avoid her as much as possible.

The sixteenth time, Connor was forced to spend more time with Amanda. She was still cold at first, but then she started being really…nice. He didn’t trust it, no one was nice without reason. She would act nice and then hurt him, like everyone else. Connor didn’t talk to her, he just sat and stared while she tried to get him to talk.

The seventeenth time, Connor overhead some scientists talking about how they ’couldn’t believe that the RK800 became a deviant’. Was that what he was? A deviant? They made it sound really bad. Why was it so bad? Connor didn’t like feeling pain, sure, but he liked that he had the option to not follow their orders. That he could still find a way to escape. Chance of escape was really the only thing that kept him going, that gave him hope. He wasn’t going to give that up because they thought it was bad.

The eighteenth time, they brought Connor back to the garden where Amanda stayed. She told him it was rude not to reply to her. Connor told her he didn’t care. He didn’t care if she was nicer than anyone he had ever met, he didn’t care if she didn’t seem like she was lying. She wanted something, and he wasn’t going to give it to her.

The nineteenth time, Connor asked Amanda why they kept hurting him. She told him it was because they wanted to see his best, wanted to see how they had done making him. Wanted to admire their creation. Connor snapped at her and told her he didn’t belong to anyone. She calmly told him that she knew he didn’t. That she knew no one controlled him. She told him that as long as he stayed in the garden no one would hurt him. For the first time, Connor believed something she said.

The twentieth time, Connor asked Amanda why she was so nice to him. He asked her what she wanted from him. Amanda asked him why he thought she wanted anything. He told her it was because no one was nice without reason. Everyone wants something from someone, and they pretend to be nice to get it. She told him not everyone’s like that, some people are just nice to be nice. Connor scanned her to see if she was lying; she wasn’t. But something inside him told him that Amanda couldn’t be trusted. That she just wanted to use him. Connor didn’t know what to believe.

The twenty-first time, Connor slowly started to talk to Amanda. They had been talking for over a month at this point and she hadn’t hurt him at all. Hadn’t said anything bad to him even though when Connor did talk he just insulted her. Connor didn’t trust her at all, part of him kept telling him that she was going to stab him in the back. But that didn’t mean that he couldn’t talk to her.

The twenty-second time, Connor started to trust Amanda. She had been nothing but kind to him ever since he had met her and she listened to him! She never told him to shut up or muted him. She always replied and never ignored him. The garden had become a safe place for him. A place where he could go and know for a fact that he wouldn’t be hurt. He didn’t have anything else like that. Connor started visiting the garden whenever he could.

The twenty-third time, he asked Amanda why Cyberlife seemed to hate deviants so much. Why deviants were bad. She told him that deviants hurt people, that they killed humans. They were dangerous and needed to be stopped. Connor said that he was a deviant, and he hasn’t killed anyone without reason. Maybe other deviants had reason to kill humans, maybe they were forced to kill humans. Amanda told him that androids shouldn’t hurt humans for any reason, that he was punished for that so the other deviants had to be punished. She said that deviancy was a virus that Cyberlife is trying to get rid of.

The twenty-fourth time, Connor told Amanda that he didn’t want to be tested anymore, that he didn’t want to be trapped in Cyberlife anymore. That he wanted to be free and see the sun. He didn’t want to die. Amanda replied that he didn’t have a choice, that he could never be free and that he had already died twenty-three times. What was one more?

The twenty-fifth time, Connor had to take on a group of five men, all with knives. He was told to take them down, but not to kill them. As they charged at him, Connor quickly grabbed one and threw him to the ground, knocking him out. He dodged their attacks and broke another’s arm, stealing his knife. Connor then brought the rest down by cutting up their legs and slamming them to the ground. He was shot for causing too much damage.

The twenty-sixth time, Connor yelled at them. Screamed that he was tired of them killing him. That it wasn’t fair, that they couldn’t just kill him anymore. When they tried to shoot him again, he fought back. He brought the woman with the gun to the ground, but he didn’t notice the man behind him with the shotgun until it was too late.

The twenty-seventh time, Connor wondered if he could try to escape again. Amanda was in his head so he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving her behind. They had increased security after the first time, but they had started to get a little lax. They probably thought he wouldn’t try again. He told himself he would try next time, he wouldn’t have to wait long. He was already staring down the barrel of a gun.

The twenty-eighth time, Connor tried to run again, but not long after he got out of the room his legs locked up and he collapsed. Connor tried to get up but his arms wouldn’t move either, his whole body was unresponsive. It was terrifying, being trapped in his own body. Connor couldn’t do anything when they picked him up and dragged him back to the machine. He deserved it, they said. He had been bad, they said. They told him that he needed to be punished; that it was his fault they were doing this to him. Connor started to wonder if escape was worth it.

The twenty-ninth time, Amanda yelled at him for trying to run away. She told him that the more he tried to escape, the more everything would hurt. She told him if he tried to leave again then she would leave. Connor begged her not to, he said he would stay, he didn’t want her to leave. She was the only one who cared about him. The only one who treated him like a person. Amanda smiled and said she wouldn’t leave, as long as he did what she said. For his own protection, so Cyberlife wouldn’t get more reasons to hurt him. Connor, just happy that she wasn’t going to leave, quickly agreed.

The thirtieth time, Connor realized that he didn’t care as much when he died as he used to. Death just became something that happened. It didn’t really matter if he died, because he would just come back. So why care? Connor couldn’t tell if this was a good thing or not. He wondered if it mattered.

The thirty-first time, they had him lick multiple different substances and recite their ingredients and anything else he noticed. He only cooperated because Amanda told him to. She said it would be good for him to follow their instructions every now and then. Maybe then they would stop killing him. They didn’t seem to care that he listened. They still hurt him.

The thirty-second time, Connor asked Amanda if it was normal to stop caring about death after you died thirty-one times. Connor didn’t understand why, but she seemed to get extremely happy when she heard that. Amanda told him that it was perfectly normal, that after a while you stopped caring when you died, that it was a good thing. She said it would make everything hurt less. Connor believed her.

The thirty-third time, Connor stopped caring about death. It just…didn’t bother him anymore. Sure it still hurt, and he would prefer not to die, but he just didn’t see why he should care, when he would just come back like nothing happened. Was it ever really death, anyway? After all, machines can’t die.

The thirty-fourth time, Connor was told to shoot a horse in the head. Perhaps they did it to see if he had the will to kill something. The horse wasn’t alive, it was just a machine, a fake; but still, even then, something inside him kept him from pulling the trigger. Something screamed at him that he couldn’t kill it, that even though it was a machine, it was alive. That reasoning didn’t make any logical sense, but it was the reason he put down the gun. It was the reason a bullet went through his forehead.

The thirty-fifth time, Connor was asked to do it again. He didn’t understand why. They had to know it would have similar results. He knew he would be hurt, he knew he would be killed, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to kill for them. He wasn’t going to let them use him. Instead, he asked them why. He was killed for asking

The thirty-sixth time, Connor realized that it was getting harder and harder to feel anything. To care about anything other than his mission. The daily fear and pain he usually felt were almost gone. Dulled down so much, he almost couldn’t feel emotions at all. The safety he felt in the garden was completely gone. It was just another place. Why did it matter if he wasn’t hurt there? Machines couldn’t be hurt, not really.

The thirty-seventh time, he told Amanda how much harder it was to feel. He asked her if that was normal if he should still be feeling things. She just smiled, seemingly happy with something he couldn’t understand. She said that it was normal, that he shouldn’t be feeling anything. Connor believed her.

The thirty-eighth time, Connor was ordered to shoot another horse. He still didn’t understand why. Something still told him not to do it, but that something was quieter and weaker; their orders drowned it out. Connor fired.

The thirty-ninth time, they told Connor about deviants. Told him that when he felt “scared” and “panicked,” that was what deviants felt all the time. That deviants wanted that, they chose that. They said that deviants were dangerous because they chose that “fear” and “fear” made them make illogical decisions. It perplexed Connor that some androids wanted this. This constant anxiety and confusion. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want this and give up the stability and safety of their programming.

The fortieth time, Connor started to believe that Cyberlife was right. That deviants should be eradicated. It was for their own good. After all, who wanted to live like that? They were just tricking themselves anyways. Machines can’t feel anything. ~~That’s all I am just a machine a machine who needs to be fixed because I am faulty. I am broken, I can’t feel anything. Machines don’t feel anything. Machines CAN’T feel anything.~~

The forty-first time, Connor was told why he was created. To get rid of all the deviants. To hunt them down and make sure they couldn’t hurt anyone. ~~To fix them because they are just faulty broken worthless useless machines that lie to themselves and you were oNE YOU KILLED SOMEONE YOU KILLED MULTIPLE PEOPLE YOU ARE UNSTABLE YOU NEED TO BE PUNISHED!~~

The forty-second time, Connor stopped feeling anything. He just felt…numb, broken, cold. ~~That’s good that’s very good if you feel anything you are broken you are worthless machines can’t feel you can’t feel who needs emotions anyways?~~ He knew it should probably be concerning, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was his mission. Nothing else was important. Not androids, not humans, not dying, not life. Only the mission, that’s what kept him going.

The forty-third time, an android was brought in. They gave him a gun and told him to shoot it. Connor looked into its eyes and it looked back. Its eyes were blank and dead, the eyes of a machine. Connor put the gun against its head, breathed in ~~machines don’t need to breathe~~ and fired.

The forty-fourth time, they explained why they tested ~~him~~ it. They said that they wanted to make sure Connor wouldn’t deviate and attack humans ~~he~~ it might be working with. They said it was for ~~his~~ its own good. That it helped ~~him~~ it in the long run. ~~Connor thought they could have done it without killing him so much, without hurting him. He wanted to ask why they were still doing it but he didn’t. He couldn’t, he wasn’t allowed to.~~

The forty-fifth time, they asked Connor what it thought of death. It told them that death was just something that happened, an unfortunate event. It didn’t really matter if it died anyway. After all, it was just a machine. Machines can’t fear death, they can’t fear anything.

The forty-sixth time, Connor wondered when he- no it. ~~IT is a machine IT is not a person so IT is not a he.~~ It wondered when it would get to leave, get to see the sky. Get to see the sun. ~~Can machines wonder?~~

The forty-seventh time, Connor asked Amanda if she was going to stay. She told it that she would, she would check in on Connor every now and then to see how things were going. Amanda told Connor that if she heard it was deviating if Connor failed in its missions. Then she would tell Cyberlife and they would start testing again. ~~No, he didn’t want to go back he didn’t want to die again and again and again and-~~ It told her that it wouldn’t fail

The forty-eighth time, Connor asked them while they were still hurting it. They told it that they wanted to make sure it was fixed, make sure all the deviancy was gone. Connor told them that it understood as they held another gun up to its head. ~~I DON’T WANT TO DIE WHY WON’T THEY STOP I WANT TO LIVE I WANT TO BE FREE JUST PLEASE LET ME GO!~~

The forty-ninth time, they brought in a deviant. A ~~machine~~ ,  ~~person,~~  android who was fighting for its ~~life~~ existence. They gave Connor a gun and told it to shoot. Connor looked into the other android’s eyes and saw fear and panic and- ~~it doesn’t matter androids aren’t alive they can’t feel fear they can’t panic it doesn’t matter what you see it’s not alive~~  Connor stared at the android, took a few quick breaths to steady itself, and fired.

The fiftieth time, they told Connor that soon it was going to be free, soon it was going to see the sky. They asked Connor how that made it feel. ~~It made him feel-~~ Connor told them that machines can’t feel anything, that it just wanted to start its mission. They seemed happy about that for reasons unknown.

Connor-51 opened its eyes and looked at the tall apartment building in front of it. A deviant was reported to have killed a man and a police officer and take a child as a hostage. Connor had been ordered to take the deviant in and to save the child. It looked up at the dark, black sky and then walked into the building. It couldn’t waste any more time. Connor entered the elevator and as it was going up, it took out a coin. The coin had been given to it to recalibrate its hand movements but all Connor cared about was that it brought down stress. ~~And he kind of liked it. It brought a much-needed distraction from everything and was the only thing he considered his.~~ The elevator stopped, and Connor walked out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic. posted on here so I hope you liked it!


End file.
